Sidney Supercat
by MeanRunt
Summary: Sidney tangles with two dogs ... and helps Nick and Schanke solve a crime in the process


****

Forever Knight

Sidney Supercat

"So, whaddya think of this stuff?" The thin man asked the black man. "This is good enough to blow your socks off." Two others stood in the shadows behind him.

The man took a pinch of the white powder from the baggie and held it to his nose. "Pure as the driven snow. Much better than that garbage your flunkies over there … " He pointed to the two lurking in the dark. " … been selling me." 

The two in the background started forward, but a threatening glance from the thin man convinced them to retreat to their former positions. 

"I knew if I waited long enough and complained loud enough, I'd get to do business with someone who had some sense and good taste." He said. "How much?"

"I can get you two kilos of the stuff. All for only fifty biggies. You cut it right and you'll be in hog heaven. Two thousand snorts if there's one. That oughta keep your customers happy. At a hundred apiece, that's a four hundred percent profit."

"How do I know you gonna deliver? I turn over fifty grand, and I don't want a sack of confectioner's sugar for my dough. How about some references?"

"References!" The thin man laughed. "Tino, my boy. You've been doing business with my … ah … company for almost a year. Has anybody ever welched on you yet?" 

"And I've been one of your best customers. Don't you think it's time to let me in on some of your secrets."

"Like what?"

"Like maybe some names. The only people I know by name are Bozo and Clarabelle over there. Just in case something happens to you and I need to make a large buy. That way I can contact somebody besides Cheetah and J. Fred Muggs. You can start with yours. I mean, I can't keep calling you Mr. Big, now can I?"

The thin man thought for a few minutes. "Okay. You've been pretty up front with me. I guess I can trust you." He slapped him on the shoulder. Something didn't feel right. He grabbed the man and ripped his shirt open. He was wearing a nearly invisible wire "You're a #\/(!^* cop!" He bellowed. "You #$$]%^ ! YOU'RE A NARC!" 

The two men who had been skulking in the shadows stepped up and grabbed Tino by the shoulders. With one fluid motion, the man pulled a knife from its sheath on his belt and with another, drove it between Tino's fifth and sixth rib.

**********

Nick Knight stood up and took a few steps back from the body. He closed his eyes and willed the vampire back into its darkest corner. There was blood everywhere. Marcus (Tino) Valentine had bled to death. He was one of the best narcotics officers that Metro had. His meeting tonight was to be one of the keys to bringing down a drug ring that had been operating in the area for several years. 

A passerby had discovered the body in the alley, and of course, no one in the area had seen or heard anything. Or if they had, they weren't talking. At least not to the police.

Doctor Natalie Lambert, the Coroner on call, came over to Nick and his partner, Don Schanke.

"Whatcha got for us, Doc?" Don asked. "And please let it be something we can use to catch these scumbags."

"I wish I could give you something." Natalie said, writing something on her clipboard. "But from just the preliminary exam, I'd say he died from traumatic blood loss caused by a knife wound to the heart. From a cursory look at the wound, the murder weapon looks to be a Bowie knife or a machete. One thrust. I'd say it was done by a pro." She watched as the technicians zipped the former narcotics officer into the body bag. "As I have said many times before …"

"I'll know more after the autopsy." Knight, Schanke and Lambert said in unison.

"Well, it's true. Why don't you drop by in about two or three hours? I should have some answers for you by then." She left to follow the Coroners van back to the morgue.

**********

Three hours almost to the minute later, Detectives Don Schanke and Nick Knight came into the morgue. If it had been up to Knight, they would have been there almost before the corpse. But there were mounds and mounds of paperwork connected with the death of a police officer, and just the preliminary forms alone had kept them busy nearly the whole time. Schanke's paperwork was nearly complete, but it was obvious that Nick had barely begun working on his. It didn't escape Schanke's notice that during the entire time, his partner seemed nervous and distracted. He covertly glanced at Nick's scratch pad. The name 'Natalie' in all its variations was doodled all over it and punctuated with a myriad of hearts. Just friends … R-i-i-i-ght. And I'm the first runner up in this year's Mr. Canada Contest. 

Now that they were finally at the morgue, Nick seemed much calmer.

"Well … ?" Nick asked the Coroner as soon as they entered the office. 

"Well, what?" Nat said as she picked up a stack of instruments from the sink. She looked at Nick, and for a few seconds, time and space seemed to stop. For a moment, they both were in another universe. One where they were watching their three blond curly headed children run and play in the sun. 

Don Schanke could almost see the chemistry flowing between the Coroner and the Detective. Are they the only ones who don't realize what's going on between them? 

Nick broke the contact first. "Any more on our killer?" He finally asked. 

Natalie mentally shook herself back into this reality. "From the placement and angle of the fatal wound, it's likely the killer is right handed." She said as she put the last of the instruments into the autoclave. "He's about the same height as Tino, five ten to six feet. The murder weapon definitely was a Bowie knife. Blade nine or ten inches long and two and a half inches wide at its widest point. The blade went in very forcefully. Went clear through the left ventricle and nicked the interior of the latissimus dorsei. Death was almost instantaneous, but the active bleeding continued for quite some time due to the extremely large wound."

"Anything else that might help us catch the killer?"

Nat shook her head slowly. "Other than the fact that the killer has to be an expert at knife fighting, no."

Don sighed heavily. "That description fits most of the street punks from here to Vancouver. Thanks anyway. If you find anything else … "

"I know. Don't hesitate to call." Nat finished his sentence.

**********

Natalie Lambert looked with dismay at her closet. Except for a cocktail dress, a suit that she referred to as her 'Monday Best', several pairs of sweats, and a few oversized outfits, her 'fat' clothes, there was nothing to wear. She should have done her laundry sometime last week, but two of her staff were on vacation and three more were out with the flu. Another one was on her honeymoon. I wish that was Nick and I… She fantasized. That, coupled with what seemed to be double the normal amount of violent and unexplained deaths in the past few weeks, meant that she had been putting in mountains of overtime. When she did come home, all she wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep until it was time to go to work again. Now she had no choice. It was either wash what she had, or buy new. Since it was the week between paydays, and her rent was due before the next pay, the only option was a trip to the laundry room. 

She stacked her two precariously overstuffed laundry baskets on top of each other and pushed them to the door. She'd figure out the logistics to get them to the basement as she went along. Thank goodness this was her day off. Because of the situation at work, she had only taken one day this week, but there were times when she didn't even get that much time. 

**********

She took the clothes from the washer and placed them in the empty basket and put another load in the washer. At this rate, it would take at least four or five loads to get everything clean. Oh well, this'll teach me to let it go so long. She chided herself as she opened the dryer, and then closed it again. On second thought, it's such a beautiful day, why don't I hang them outside? She scouted the room and said a small prayer of thanks. Sure enough, one of the other tenants had left a bucket of clothespins on one of the shelves. That saved her a trip to her apartment, which was on the third floor. There were already clotheslines strung in a corner of the back yard. 

**********

She pinned the last piece, a blue striped blouse, to the line. It's a shame to waste a beautiful day like this. She thought If I remember correctly, my bathing suit is in the bottom drawer of the dresser. She could use the sun. Being in the Coroner's office, and on the night shift to boot, didn't give her much opportunity for sunbathing. She looked as pale as some of her 'clients'. Almost as pale as … Nick. 

Several minutes later, she emerged wearing a sea green one piece tank suit. It was cut low in the back and the front was criss crossed in a way that modestly accentuated her cleavage. It was edged with a forest green braided bias ribbon. She had bought it two years ago for a trip to California that never materialized. This was the first opportunity she had to wear it. She had a blanket draped over her arm, and carried a basket filled with sunglasses, sunscreen, a book, and a travel mug of water. There was also a kitchen timer. She spread the blanket on the ground and placed the basket at the head of it. Then she applied the sunscreen on her front and legs. Now if I just had a nine point eight … or maybe a mortal Nick … to spread it on my back, I'd be set. She set the timer for one hour. That should be more than enough for a first time out. She positioned herself on the blanket and opened the book. 

She jerked up suddenly as something cold touched the sole of her foot "SIDNEY!" She half screamed. She looked down to find that the cat was licking her big toe. "How did you get out?" He came beside her and she scratched the gray feline's head. He leisurely sauntered a few feet away and began to roll in the sun warmed grass. "Don't tell me I left the door open a crack when I came out." She shook her head. "Then again, you wouldn't tell me anyway, would you?" She smiled at the cat's antics as he playfully stalked a butterfly. "Oh, well. I guess you could use some time in the sun, too." She lay back down and rolled on her stomach to let the sun's warmth do its thing on her far too weary body.

She opened her eyes and blinked. She must have fallen asleep and didn't hear the timer go off. She slowly rolled over and nearly screamed in pain. Her back felt as though it was on fire. She gazed at the cloudless sky. The sun was now a huge orange ball on the horizon. The last she remembered, it was almost directly overhead. Carefully, she got to her knees and finally to a standing position. She gathered her things and headed indoors. With great difficulty, she made it to her apartment and to the bathroom. Using a hand mirror, she studied her back in the medicine cabinet mirror. All she needed was some lemon butter and she could pass for a lobster. She filled the bathtub with tepid water and poured half a bottle of Aloe Vera lotion in it. Gingerly, she removed her suit and eased herself into the tub.

An hour later, she eased herself out. Her back was feeling much better, although it was still very sensitive … and exceedingly painful to the touch. She thought about getting dressed, and immediately rejected that idea. There was no one around to see her, and her back still hurt far too much to put anything even remotely resembling clothes on. 

She padded into the kitchen. Something was wrong. Something … someone … was missing. Sidney. He was still outside. She started to the door. "You've got to be kidding, Lambert. You can't go outside like that. You're buck naked!" She told herself. "No use giving the neighborhood a free show." She laughed, remembering the punch line from the old joke. "They have to pay for it like everyone else." She recalled how Sidney had returned home after his last escapade in the great outdoors. He had been gone three days that time. I guess he'll be all right. He's proved that he does know his way home. 

**********

Her evening and much of the next day was spent trying to find a sleeping position that wasn't pure agony. It was an exercise in futility. There was no such position. Finally, about midday, she had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion. She had overslept and now she had to be at work in less than an hour. As she pulled on her loosest pants and an oversized T shirt, she was aware that Sidney had not returned yet. Unfortunately, there was no time to look for him.

On her way out, she knocked on her neighbor's door. Janice Prater promised to keep an eye out for the cat and even volunteered to bring in Nat's laundry, which was still hanging on the line. 

**********

Nick thanked the Forensics Technician and headed back to the precinct. They had analyzed the voice on the tape that was made with Tino's wire. With the help of Narcotics and the Mounties, they had determined that the voice belonged to Charles Emmett Tenowski. 

According to the RCMP, Tenowski was one of the biggest dealers in the Province. Rumor was he was the number six man in the … Company. The RCMP had a file on him several inches thick, but very few arrests and no convictions. Not even a clear indictment. He always managed to squeak through the cracks, usually on technicalities. This earned him the nickname Charlie the Technician. Until now there had been no evidence that he was in the Toronto area. It followed there was no current address. To further complicate things, there were no recent clear pictures of him either. His mug shots were several years old and were of a heavy set man in a full beard and long straggly hair. Current reports said that he had lost over seventy five pounds, was clean shaved and wore his hair cut in a brush cut. The only up to date picture they had was the one that Nick held. It was grainy and blurred, but it was the best that the Mounties had on file. The CGI morphing that they had done with the photos did not yield anything much better. 

Probably the most damaging evidence against him was the fact that his weapon of choice was a knife. The bigger the better. Nick pounded his fist into his hand. So close and so far. Damn! Damn! Damn! 

**********

Natalie stood at her desk. While it was not too painful to sit, to rest her back against the chair was excruciating. 

Grace Balthazar came into the lab with a sheaf of papers. Almost immediately, she noticed the reddened areas that were not covered by Natalie's scrubs. "Girl! What have you been up to!" She said. "You look like you've been laying in the sun all day." 

"And you claim that you're not psychic." Nat said with a sly grin as she took the papers from her assistant. 

"I don't have to be a mind reader. Or a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Not when you're redder than a bullfighter's cape."

"Well, you're right. That's exactly what happened. I did fall asleep in the back yard. Must have zonked out for hours." She looked menacingly at Grace. "And if you breathe a word about this … "

"Breathe a word about what?" Nick Knight said from the doorway. No one heard him enter, but then, that wasn't unusual for the vampire cop. Don Schanke was right behind him. Someone should have heard him, though.

"That." Grace said, pointing to Nat's back. "She's been sleeping in the sun."

"Tattle tale." Nat hissed.

"Oh my God, Nat." Don said. "That looks terrible. Does it hurt very much?" 

"Anything I can do?" Nick asked as he came to her. He started to put his hand on her shoulder, but thought better of it. If it hurt as bad as it looked, Nat would be in extreme pain.

"Now there's a stupid question, Don. I'll have you know the pain is exquisite. And yes, Nick. There is something you can do. There's a tube of topical anesthetic on the top shelf in the drug cabinet. If you could put some on my back … "

Nick did as he was asked. He squeezed a generous amount of the creme onto his hands and slipped them under her scrub top. He was surprised to find that she was not wearing a bra. If he had been mortal, he probably would have blushed deeply. Fortunately for him, he wasn't ... mortal. If only I were … Touching her like this only underscored the feelings he had for her. To spite what he had always maintained, they were definitely a lot more than friendly feelings. If only she felt the same way. 

Nat closed her eyes and sighed. The ointment went a long way toward easing the pain. That, and the coolness of his hands as he spread it on, did wonders for her. Sometimes it really pays off having a vampire for a … friend. She had almost thought boyfriend, but that was not in the realm of possibilities. At least not now. Probably never. She knew that what she felt for him went far beyond friendship, but he had never given her any indication that he thought of her as anything but a good pal. … Just one of the 'boys'. She thought glumly.

The phone rang and Natalie picked it up "Coroners Office. You stab 'em and we slab 'em. …" Her face turned as red as her back. "Wait a minute! … don't hang up … you have the right number … this is Natalie Lambert. … Yes, Sidney is my cat … " Suddenly the color drained from her face. "I'll be right there. Thank you." As she hung up the phone, her hands were shaking. 

"What happened … ?" Grace, Don, and Nick all said at the same time.

"That was the Veterinary Emergency Hospital." She said woodenly. "Sidney's been mauled by two big dogs. Jan, my next door neighbor took him to my vet and he sent them to Vet Emergency. Apparently, he's not in very good shape." She picked up her purse and jacket and headed for the door. "Grace, book me off. I … I've got to go." 

Nick was right behind her. "Would you like me to take you?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I don't think I'm in any shape to drive." She fished in her purse and handed him her car keys. 

Nick tossed his keys to Don. "Take the Caddy back to the precinct. Book me off, too. And while you're at it, you might as well get it washed and waxed." He called as he and Nat headed out of the office.

Schanke looked at the keys in his hands. "This must be really bad if he trusts me with his most prized possession … His Caddy."

"Are you sure that's what he prizes the most?" Grace asked with an all knowing look.

They both stared at the office door. "Friends!" They said, nodding to each other.

Once outside, Nick headed for the back of the building. 

"Nick." She called. "My car is over there."

"Too slow." He said as he picked her up, being careful of her sore back. Gently, he lifted into the air.

**********

He set down in the back of the Veterinary Hospital.

"Nick!" Nat said as he lowered her to the ground. "That was fabulous! If I'd have known it was that great, I'd have asked you to take me flying a long time ago."

"I don't fly unless I have to … Well, I have to admit that occasionally I do it just for fun, but that's only in open country. Only rarely in the city. Too much danger of being spotted. I've only taken a few mortals flying. And then only if it was absolutely necessary."

"I guess in a way, I'm glad you thought this was a necessity." She started for the front of the building. 

"Speaking of necessities, let's go see how Sidney is doing." He slipped his arm loosely around her waist as they headed for the Vet Hospital door. It felt good. It felt right.

**********

Natalie had barely left the reception counter when a woman came up to her. "You're the owner of that …that cat, aren't you?" She practically bellowed. 

"Yes. Sidney's my cat." Natalie answered.

"That …that animal is a menace to society! He attacked those dogs without any reason! And they aren't even mine!" Her face was red with anger. "They belong to my boyfriend and he's going to be royally pissed when he finds out!"

"And who is your boyfriend?" Nick asked as he joined Natalie. "And why isn't he here?"

"Who are you? Her husband?" The woman challenged him.

"I'm just a friend." Nick replied softly. Who wishes with all his heart and whatever soul he has that there could be more. 

"Well, FRIEND, you better tell your … " She pointed at Nat. "HER … that she better be ready to pay for all of the dogs' treatments! And have that monster of hers put to sleep! When Carl finds out what's happened to his dogs, he's gonna sue the pants off her!" She ranted.

Nick started to place his hand on her shoulder. She pulled away forcefully. "Don't you dare touch me!" She screamed. "I'll call the cops and have you up on charges of assault and battery so fast it'll make your head swim!"

Nick reached into his jacket pocket and took out his badge case.

"So! You are a cop! It figures! You creeps think that just because you have a badge, you can do anything you damn well please and we ordinary people got to take it! Well, let me tell you a thing or two, Mr. High and Mighty Police Officer …"

"Miss." Nick said quietly. He concentrated on the woman's heartbeat as he stared into her eyes. "Shut …Up!"

"But I … " Suddenly there was silence in the waiting room as Nick's 'suggestion' took effect.

"That's much better." Nick said, still holding her in his power. "Now. You will go to the coffee machine. You will get a cup of coffee ... Decaf coffee ... You will sit down on one of the chairs over there and you will drink it very slowly. When you are finished, you will be calm and ready to discuss this situation logically and rationally."

"Coffee … Decaf … Discuss … Rational." The woman repeated as she headed down the hall toward the coffee machine.

"Did you just whammy her?" Natalie asked as she came up to him.

Nick nodded imperceptibly. "I know you don't like me to do things like that, but I had no choice. She was making a scene … " He hung his head guiltily. "I'm sorry, Nat I know that it's backsliding, but … "

"Don't be sorry. In this case you were right. She was definitely out of control."

His head came up and he looked like a little boy who had just brought home all 'A's on his report card. "You mean that, Nat? You're not just saying it to smooth things over, are you?"

"I mean it. Normally, I would be angry with you for doing things like that, but I think this case was an exception. In situations like this, it can be a positive thing to have an ability like that. Psychiatrists often use hypnosis to calm an agitated patient. One of these days, you've got to teach me how you do that." Natalie said as she watched the woman walk away.

"Trust me, Nat. You don't want to pay the price to learn." He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

The door to the examining room opened. "Is there a Natalie Lambert here?" The doctor asked.

Nat went to him. "I'm Natalie Lambert. How's Sidney?"

"I'm Doctor Matt Fletcher." He said, extending his hand. "I'm Sidney's doctor. He has suffered numerous cuts and bites, Nineteen, if I count right. Some of them are bad enough that they'll require suturing. Thankfully, there are no broken bones. The major conditions we're watching right now are a punctured lung and some mild abdominal bleeding. That appears to be from one of the bites that lacerated the abdominal muscle. Fortunately, the x-rays don't show any internal organ damage.

The left lung is what worries me the most. That's the one that was perforated. It's now collapsed. There's quite a lot of blood and fluid in the chest cavity as well. That makes it very hard for him to breathe. It's also causing problems with his heart. Because there isn't enough room in the chest cavity for the heart to fill properly, when it beats it's only partially full. And since there's only one functioning lung, the blood it does send out isn't completely oxygenated. Between the two problems, it means that he isn't getting enough oxygen to his brain and vital organs. That means his heart has to work even harder to supply his needs. And so it goes. It's a viscous circle. In addition, he's lost quite a lot of blood. That makes the problem very critical at this point. We've got an IV going and we're expecting several cat blood donors any minute now."

"Have you tried active suction to relieve the congestion, and what type of IV are you using? Dextrose and Saline or Lactated Ringers?" Nat asked.

"What?" The doctor asked, puzzled. "Oh that's right, you're a MD. Good treatment strategy, doctor." He smiled. "But we're one step ahead of you. We're in the process of inserting a thoracic tube now. That should ease the problem considerably. Once the fluid is drained out, it should allow the lung to re-inflate and that should stabilize his condition. By the way, the IV is lactated, fortified with ten percent plasma."

Just then, an elderly Chinese man came in carrying two travel cages. "Did someone place a call for type 'C' … for cat … blood?" He said with a wide grin, bowing in the direction of the Doctor. He held up the cages. In each of them was a large Siamese cat. 

Behind him was a woman, also carrying a cage with a cat in it.

"There's our kitty donors now." Doctor Fletcher said. "Excuse me while I get things set up."

"When can I see him?" Nat asked.

"Not until we get him stabilized. That won't be for least another hour or so."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes, there is. Go and get yourself a cup of coffee or a soft drink and try to relax."

"But I'm a doctor!" She protested. "I should be able to help."

"Then you also should know the rules. Never work on family. Same thing applies here." He smiled and patted her on the shoulder. "I don't even immunize my own dogs." Nat managed only a slight wince as he touched her sunburned skin.

Nick came from the hallway carrying a cup of coffee. "I figured you could use this." He said handing it to Nat. "Monica Belcher and I just had the nicest chat. Seems that the dogs, two Rotweillers named Bobo and Fritz, managed to get out of her car through an open window while she was at the gas station by your place. She didn't even realize they were missing until she came out of the washroom and saw that the car was empty.

They must have spotted Sidney on the street and chased him into the yard. That's when your neighbor heard the commotion and came out. She saw that they had him cornered by the tree and went and got some of the other neighbors to help. It took three people to pull the dogs off him. 

Apparently he gave as good as he got. According to the Vet Tech I just talked to, Bobo has quite a few gashes in his face and his right eye has been torn open. It will probably have to be removed. His nose has been torn clear into the sinuses. It's likely he's going to need extensive reconstructive surgery.

Fritz isn't much better. Sidney got him on both front legs. They were slashed clear to the bone, and his chest and neck have been nearly torn to shreds. He's going to be healing for quite a while, too."

Nat smiled weakly. "That's my Sid. I knew he was a fighter as well as a lover."

"Would you like to see Sidney now?" The Vet Tech asked. "We're getting the blood ready for transfusion, but I can let you have a few minutes."

"I thought the doctor said to wait until he was stabilized."

"If you just happened to follow me into exam room three, I didn't see you." She said with a wink.

Natalie gasped as she looked at the creature lying on the examination table before her. They had positioned him on a cat sized stretcher to make it easier to move him without further injury to him. He looked nothing like her fluffy feline friend of yesterday. He had been shaved from just behind his ears to halfway up his tail. There was a plastic tube taped to his chest where it emerged from the incision into his lung cavity. The other end was attached to a suction bottle that pumped the blood tinged fluids from his lungs. A second tube drained blood and fluids from his abdomen into a plastic bag hanging from a hook on the side of the table. An oxygen tube was inserted into his nose and connected to a tank. An IV drip was taped to his left front paw. Several monitors were also taped to him in various places. The machines' beeping and pinging made a syncopated cacophony. Wet dressings were placed on, but not taped to some of the larger wounds, but there were still many smaller cuts and bites openly seeping blood.

Sidney feebly raised his head and looked at her. His eyes were dulled, probably from the pain medication. He tried to meow, but all that came out was a weak "mearkh".

"I know, Sid." Natalie said as she gently placed her hand on his right paw. "Don't worry, baby. I know everything will be all right. You'll see. Hang in there." She fought to hold back the tears that were welling in her eyes. To see him in so much pain was almost more than she could bear. "Just remember. I love you. And I'm praying for you." She hadn't prayed in a long time, but she was praying now.

With a great effort, Sidney lowered his head and feebly licked her hand. 

There was a knock at the door that led to the treatment rooms. "They're ready for him." The Tech said. Two other technicians came in and gently lifted Sidney's stretcher and took him out of the room.

"Would you like to meet the cats who gave us the blood?" The Tech asked.

Natalie shook her head yes.

The Tech led her to two cages. "That's Patches." She pointed to a tri color female dozing inside one of the cages. "This is Yin." She said as she scratched one of the Chocolate Point Siamese cats in the other cage behind her ears. "The other one is Yang." Yang merely looked inscrutably at the technician. "And the fourth donor is Pretzel." She pointed to an enormous orange striped cat patrolling the floor inside the lab. "They've all given blood before, so it's old hat for them. They'll be good as new in a couple of hours." 

"Pretzel doesn't have a cage. He sleeps on a cushion behind the reception desk." The Tech explained as they went back to the lounge area. "He's the hospital cat, so he does pretty much whatever he pleases. A Good Samaritan brought him in about eight years ago when he was just a kitten. He had been run over by a car and his back legs were pretty mangled. That's how he got his name. It took numerous operations and months of therapy to repair the damage to his legs,but he'll never be able to walk without a pronounced limp. We put flyers all over the neighborhood, but nobody ever came to claim him. If we had sent him to the SPCA like we are supposed to do with strays, he probably would have been put to sleep. After all, there aren't that many people who would want a crippled kitten. Not when they can have a perfectly healthy one. After all that Pretzel went through just to stay alive, we couldn't let that happen, so the staff adopted him. 

We joke about it, but he practically runs the place. The only reason he keeps us around is to keep the food dish full and the litter box empty. I think if he could figure out how to do accounts receivable, he'd fire half the staff." She smiled as Pretzel wove through her legs. "Of course, then he'd only get half the attention and spoiling he gets now, so I guess that's just one more reason for him to keep us around."

**********

Doctor Fletcher gently shook her awake. She was not even aware that she had fallen asleep. "Doctor Lambert. Why don't you go home? There's nothing more you can do here. Sidney's had his transfusion. His lungs have started to clear and he appears to be stabilized. Now all we can do is wait. If anything changes, we'll call you right away."

"But I … "

"He's right, Nat." Nick said. She didn't realize that he was still there, or that she had been sleeping on his shoulder. His hand was loosely caressing her shoulder. For some strange reason, it didn't hurt like she thought it would. The anesthetic lotion should have worn off hours ago. "It's after 3AM and I think you need to sleep in your own bed." He wouldn't have minded if she had slept the rest of the night in his arms, but that was not an option. Not here. Not now. Maybe not ever. Silently he cursed the circumstances that kept them apart.

"Can we go home the way we came here?" Nat asked sleepily. She wished she could spend the night in his arms, but she knew that it was not a possibility as things stood now. Damn! 

Nick smiled, and this time it did reach his eyes. "I think we could do that."

"Great." She said as she gathered up her purse and jacket. That was when she realized that she was still in her scrubs. "We do have to stop at the morgue and pick up my other clothes and things. And my car."

**********

He sensed him as he rode the elevator to the loft. He had spent nearly the entire night trying to convince Nat to get some sleep. Between he sunburned back and her worry over Sidney, she was a nervous wreck. He had held her tenderly in his arms and gently rocked her until she finally dozed off. By that time, there was barely enough time to make it back to the loft before daylight. "Wonderful! Terrific!" He said to the wall of the lift. "This is all I need right now. LaCroix harassing me for the rest of the day."

"I have no intention of harassing you, Nicholas." His master said as he opened the door. "Why do you always assume the worst of me?" He had that self satisfied smug look on his face that infuriated Nick so. 

"Because it's almost always true. Just go back to wherever you came from, LaCroix. I did not invite you here. I do not want you here. I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

"Since when do I need an invitation to visit with my son. That is my privilege as your maker. I am here only out of concern for your well being. I felt your anguish over the good Doctor and her pet through our link." He shook his head slowly. "Nicholas. Nicholas. When will you learn? Mortals have no place in our culture. Your misguided feelings for the doctor are completely unjustified. I have tolerated your pathetic association with her only because she has performed services for the Community that were sorely needed. However, I fail to comprehend why the well being of that common housecat should upset you so. Perhaps if he were a pedigreed champion … "

"I doubt you would see the point even if I could explain it to you. You would have to have empathy and compassion to understand it. You have neither." Nick said sharply. He was exhausted, and the thought of a protracted battle of words with LaCroix was definitely not in his plans for the day.

"Nicholas!" The elder vampire spat. "You will not speak to me that way. I have told you many times that mortals are beneath our concern. They are useful only for what they can provide. Services or food. Nothing more. The same is more than true for their so called pets. What do I have to do to convince you of that?"

"You can leave."

"Oh, Nicholas. How inhospitable you are to your father. The sun has already risen. You know I cannot leave now. Where would I go?"

"You can go to hell for all I care." 

"If what you have told me on so many previous occasions is true, then I am already consigned to Hades when I leave this existence. It is of no importance to me. I do not plan on exiting this temporal plane any time soon. When I do though, I shall be certain to reserve a place for you right at my side. That way we shall be together for time immemorial. Just like we are in this life." The smile reminded Nick of an alligator stalking his prey.

Nick muttered something under his breath in an obscure French dialect that hadn't been spoken for six hundred years or more.

"I heard that, Nicholas. May the same apply to you."

Nick opened the hall closet and took out a blanket and a pillow that he kept there for the times when Natalie had fallen asleep on the couch. He threw them to LaCroix. "Put them back when you leave. I'm going to bed." He half growled as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. 

**********

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Don Schanke said as they drove to York. "After all, animal attacks come under the SPCA or Animal Control, don't they?"

"Yeah. Normally they do, but I talked to Dave Tremain down at the pound earlier this afternoon." Nick said as they turned off the 404. "He said that since it was Dr. Lambert's cat that was attacked, he'd be willing to let us do the investigation. Besides, I promised Nat I'd talk to Carl Turner myself. It was the only way I could get her to go to bed and to try to get some sleep today."

"I see what you mean. She did look beat even before this happened. I can imagine what she was like by this morning. By the way, partner. Did you get any sleep today?"

"Don't worry about me. I got plenty of rest." He lied. Between his apprehension over LaCroix's intentions and worrying about Sidney and about Natalie, he had been unable to get any rest. He figured he had slept only about a half an hour all told.

"Unless you're wearing black eye shadow, those look like some serious bags around your eyes. I've got a Toonie that says you're lying like a Dollar Store rug. 'Fess up, partner. You didn't sleep a wink, didja?"

"We're here." He quickly changed the subject as he parked the Caddy in front of a decidedly upper middle class house. Surrounding the structure was a six foot high black wrought iron fence backed by an equally high chain link enclosure. A 'No Trespassing' sign hung beneath a 'Beware of the Dog' sign.

"Something tells me this man values his privacy." Don said as he tested the gate. To his surprise, it was latched but not locked. He opened it and had only taken a few steps inside when two snarling Dobermans appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Their ears were flattened and they blocked the walkway to the house.

"Nice doggies. Schanke loves you." Schanke said timidly as he extended his hand for them to sniff. Barking threateningly, the dogs lunged at him. He pulled his arm tightly against his chest just in the nick of time. The animals snapped at thin air. "Good doggies. Nice puppies. You are going to let the nice policemen past, aren't you?" He slowly bent down and picked up a small stick and threw it across the yard. "Fetch!" He called as he took a few timid steps forward. The two canines took off after the stick, but seconds later they were back. "Oh. Shit!" Schanke said as the dogs bared their teeth once more. "I think I'm in it really deep now." The dogs barked menacingly and lunged again at him. "Nice doggies." The Detective said as he slowly retreated. They lunged once more as he broke into a run for the safety of the other side of the gate.

As he slammed it shut, he saw the dogs sitting in the middle of the walk. One of them was clenching a strip of gray cloth in its mouth as though it was a trophy. "Why you son of a … !" He said, craning around to look at his pants. There was a corresponding strip missing from a very crucial place in the seat of his trousers. 

"You're half right, Skank. Only one of them is." Nick said, trying very hard to suppress the grin that was beginning to spread across his face. "But the one who has a piece of your slacks is a daughter of one."

"Very funny, Nicky boy. Just for that, Mr. Fashion Perfect GQ Poster Boy, let's see if you can get to the front door with YOUR clothes intact. Me, I'm going to get a raincoat from the supply case in the back of the car. Not that it's raining, mind you." Holding the back of his pants together, he started for the Caddy. 

"These are brand new pants ...Expensive ones, too ... " He grumbled. "Never worn before ... Now they're ruined ... Myra's gonna kill me … D-e-d-d … dead." 

Nick watched as his partner withdrew to the safety of the car. When he was sure he was out of sight and hearing, he opened the gate a few inches and then closed it. That got the dogs' attention. Almost immediately, they were at the other side. They stood on their hind legs, jumping and clawing at the fence with their front paws, barking and snarling through bared teeth.

Nick concentrated. His eyes yellowed. He curled back his lips sinisterly and showed his own fangs at the animals. A low rumbling growl started deep in his abdomen and rose to his throat. 

The dogs stopped snarling. Their eyes became as big as saucers. They backed away a few steps and stood down on all fours, petrified, scrutinizing this creature before them. For a few seconds the dogs and the vampire were locked in a staring contest. Nick hissed menacingly. Natalie isn't going to be very happy with me for doing that. He thought. But there isn't any other way. Yelping and whining loudly, the two canines turned and ran pell mell for the area under the side deck. By the time Don Schanke returned, all that was visible of the Dobies were their noses. 

"What did you do to Itchy and Snitchy?" Don asked.

"Who?"

"Itchy and Snitchy. Jeeze, Nick, don't you ever watch Saturday morning cartoons?" Don said. "Oh, I forgot. You don't have a nine year old. Anyway. Itchy and Snitchy are the names of the mean dogs that are always chasing after Yakko, Wakko, and Dot on the Animaniacs. I thought everybody knew that."

"I do now." Nick said as he opened the gate and bowed low before his raincoat clad partner. "After you, good sir ... "

They hadn't gone more than a few steps when Nick tackled Schanke and threw him to the ground. Less than a split second later, there was the sound of a rifle being fired and a bullet whistled through the air where they had been standing.

"How the … ?" Don asked as he picked himself up off the ground and scrambled for the gate, drawing his gun as he ran.

"Let's just say that I had a hunch." Nick replied as he followed his partner to the relative safety of the Caddy. He couldn't very well explain to his partner that he had heard the weapon's hammer click into place in the fraction of a nanosecond before it struck the shell casing.

"You #$%$*} @^$+$& can't read very well, can you?" A voice from inside the house shouted. "The sign says no *&^%!^* trespassing and that's just what it means."

"Are you Carl Turner?" Nick shouted from behind the large car.

"Who the &#{] wants to know?"

He held up his badge case. "Toronto Metro Police. I'm Detective Knight and this is … "

He was interrupted as a volley of shots rang out. He was sprayed with glass shards as one of the bullets went through the windshield and exited through the driver's side window. "Doesn't anyone realize that it costs a small fortune to replace parts on this car?" He asked no one in particular. He knew that there were probably several bullet holes in the opposite side of his beloved vehicle as well. 

Schanke was frantically yelling into the mike "Mayday! Mayday! 81 Kilo requests backup! Code Red! Shots fired! Lots of them! Maybe you better send a SWAT team!" He turned to his partner. Nick was nowhere in sight. I hate it when he disappears like that. 

**********

Nick landed on the side porch. Itchy and Snitchy came from their hiding place under the deck, their ears back and their teeth bared. They took one look at the intruder, and then, with their heads hanging down and whimpering softly, they submissively returned to their former location.

Nick tried the window. As expected, it was locked. That had never stopped him in the past. With a slight bit of vampire pressure to the frame, it didn't stop him now. Soundlessly, he eased himself through the opening. He pulled his gun and held it at the ready. He was in what appeared to be the den. There was junk piled nearly everywhere he could see. From another room, he could hear the suspect yelling obscenities at Schanke.

It wasn't difficult to make his way to the room, obviously the living room. It was just as cluttered as the den. Carl Turner, if that was who this was, was bellowing loud enough that Nick could have driven an Abrams Tank, followed by the entire U of T marching band playing John Phillip Sousa marches, and he wouldn't have heard it. He was almost upon him when Turner finally spotted him and spun around. He fired at the detective. Nick grimaced as the bullet plowed into his side. Nick grabbed the weapon just as it went off again. This time the shot went wild and shattered a lamp. Nick threw the rifle to the other side of the room. "Schanke!" Nick called to his partner. "I've got him."

Seconds later, Don Schanke came through the front door. Nick quickly buttoned his jacket to cover the blood and the hole in his shirt. 

"Cuddles! Rambo!" Turner shouted as the detectives pushed him into the 'position'. "Attack! Sic 'em!"

"Cuddles? Rambo?" Schanke said as he handcuffed Turner.

Nick pointed to the doorway where the Dobermans were standing, very subdued. "I think that's who he's talking to."

"Cuddles? … Rambo?" Schanke rolled his eyes. "Jeez!"

As they were talking, they heard the sirens and moments later, four police cars and a SWAT van pulled up to the curb. Captain Cohen and several SWAT officers came into the house, followed by a squad of Mounties

"This is an illegal arrest." Turner shouted. "In fact, it could be considered breaking and entering. You have no authority to do this. If you do not release me immediately and leave my property, my lawyers will have all of your badges by this time tomorrow."

"I don't think so." Cohen said. "The last time I checked, murdering a police officer was a first degree felony in this province."

"I was only protecting my property. They were trespassing. I had no idea they were police. And I didn't kill anyone. You can see they're still very much alive."

That's debatable. Some of us aren't exactly alive. Nick pressed his hand against his side. Fortunately, the bullet had gone completely through and the wound had stopped bleeding. He could feel it starting to heal. In a few hours, there wouldn't even be a scar. 

"I don't think the Captain was talking about us." Don Schanke held up the picture of Tenowski. Although it was blurred, the resemblance was unmistakable. "Charles Tenowski. You are under arrest for the murder of Marcus Valentine. You have the right to … "

"And you don't have any rights." The man shouted. "You barged in here without probable cause. You have harassed and threatened me without any evidence of wrongdoing. So far there is nothing to connect me with this … Tenowski guy, whoever he is. My name is Carl Turner. I'm a legitimate businessman."

"And I'm the Prince of Wales." Schanke said. " … to remain silent … " He continued.

"I think taking pot shots at my officers gives us plenty of probable cause." Cohen replied, "But just in case that's not enough, let me introduce Judge Harlan Black of the Ontario Provincial court. And he has authorized this search warrant." She held up the document.

"That's not legal either."

"Oh, yes, it is quite legal." Judge Black said. "You see, we were on our way here even before the call came from Detective Schanke. It seems that your girlfriend, Monica Belcher became quite talkative at the precinct. She told us all about you and your … " He cleared his throat loudly. "Legitimate business."

"I don't know anyone named Monica Belcher." The man said.

"Funny, she knows you." Nick replied. "She's the one who gave us this address."

Just then, one of the Mounties came out of the bedroom with several bags. He laid them on the table. "When the Province of Ontario gets through with you, if they ever do, I have a feeling that the people in Ottawa would like to have a very long discussion with you." He pointed to one of the bags. "I don't think this is rock candy." He held up another one. "And I can make a good guess that this isn't parsley. And I'll bet a month's pay these little purple and yellow pills are not Good 'N' Plenty's."

"You still don't have anything to connect me with the dead cop, what was his name again?"

"His name was Marcus Valentine. I think this should make a connection." Nick said as he came out of the bedroom holding a Bowie knife in an evidence bag. "I'll match your month's pay that this will fit the fatal wound exactly."

"I want to see my lawyer before this goes any further."

**********

They watched as Turner / Tenowski was led to the van.

"Tell me something, Detectives." Judge Black asked Nick and Don. "How did the two of you know what was going down here? You had left the precinct before any of this happened."

"Actually, we didn't know anything about that. It was pure serendipity." Nick smiled. "We only came here as a favor to Dr. Lambert. His Rottweilers attacked her cat and we only wanted to make sure that the dogs were properly licensed and had all their shots." 

"I guess you could say that Sidney is the real hero." Don added. "If he hadn't gotten himself tangled up with those dogs, we never would have met Monica Belcher. If we hadn't met her, she never would have led us to Turner."

"I suppose you think Sidney deserves a medal?" Cohen said.

"You know, Captain, that wouldn't be a bad idea." Schanke replied.

"Funny, I was thinking along the same lines." Cohen said with a smile. 

**********

"I'm here to pick up Sidney Lambert." Natalie told the receptionist at the Vet hospital. "Dr. Fletcher said he could go home today."

"I don't think so." The clerk said.

"Why? Is something wrong? Did he have a relapse?" The color drained from Nat's face. "What happened? He was all right when the doctor called."

The woman smiled broadly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that. Sidney's fine. It's just that he's such a sweet cat. Everyone here has fallen in love with him. We had to perform some procedures on him that were extremely painful. Through it all, he never scratched, or tried to bite, or squirmed, or fought us. About the worst he did was cry out in pain. In fact, it was almost as if he knew we were trying to help him get better."

"That's right." Dr. Fletcher said as he brought Sidney to the lobby. "You have an exceptional animal here. When they brought him in here three days ago, I wouldn't have given you two beans for his chances of lasting the night. But he made it with flying colors. Around here, we call him Sidney Supercat."

Natalie strapped on his collar. Conspicuously pinned to it was a Meal of Merit from the 96th precinct. It was one of the highest awards that could be made to a civilian, let alone an animal. She guided Sidney into the carrier. For once, the cat did not resist. Even though Doctor Fletcher had declared that he was well enough to go home, to Nat, he still looked like death not even warmed over. A large bandage covered most of his torso and was held in place with a self adhering tape. According to the Technicians, it took seventeen stitches to close him up. He would have to be confined at home for a week or more. Nat was positive that Sidney would not be happy about that, but it was necessary considering the extent of his injuries. She was given a bag with various medications, replacement bandages, medicated ointments and a supply of liquid, injectable, and pill antibiotics. She also had an envelope filled with instructions about when and how much to give for each medication, as well as instructions on when and how to change his bandages. She knew that would go over like a lead balloon with the cat, too. To spite everything, he was alive and, barring complications, he would recover completely. For this alone, she was certain she could put up with a few kitty temper tantrums.

The same was not true for the dogs. According to Dave Tremain, neither the Rotweillers nor the Dobermans were licensed and there were no records of any of them receiving their vaccinations. Legally they would be treated as strays. The Dobermans had been taken to the pound by Animal Control after the police left, and the Rotweillers would be joining them as soon as possible. Since they were declared as vicious animals, they weren't considered adaptable. They would be put to sleep as soon as all the legalities were complete.

Since Sidney had all of his shots, including rabies, he was in no danger and he would not need any further treatments on that account. 

"Come on, Sid." Nat said as she strapped the carrier into the front seat of the car. "Let's go home."

Sidney loudly purred his consent as the car pulled out of the parking lot.

**********

"I don't believe it!" Don said as he came into the bullpen. "I just came from the courthouse! He Walked! Free as a bird! And clean as a newborn babe!"

"You're joking." Nick said in astonishment. "We had him cold six ways from Sunday."

"No he isn't joking, Detective Knight." Captain Cohen reinforced. "Tenowski is a free man. I just got off the phone with Pete Merrill, the Crown Prosecutor. We all knew that Tenowski was the master of technicalities, but he really outdid himself this time. He and his team of over priced ambulance chasers pulled a whole litter of rabbits out of the hat for the hearing. He managed to squeeze out of everything we had against him." She banged her fist on Nick's desk in frustration. "According to Merrill, there was enough smoke and mirrors in the courtroom to justify calling in the fire department.

First of all, he vehemently denied that he is Charles Tenowski. He insisted that he is Carl Turner. That RCMP picture wasn't clear enough to establish empirical proof. And none of the CGI's came even close to what he looks like. Especially since he produced tons of documentation in the name of Carl Turner. Driver's license. Social Security card. Utility bills. Stacks of credit cards. And a library card. He even had a Red Cross blood donor card!"

"I hope I never get any of his blood." Schanke grabbed at his arm at the elbow.

If I were drinking human, I wouldn't want any of his either. Nick thought. It would probably make me very sick. 

"What about Monica Belcher?" Natalie asked.

"Strange thing about her. She disappeared from the safe house three days before the hearing. Said she was going out for a breath of fresh air. An officer who was guarding her went with her. They both just vanished into thin air. We've been scouring the Province ever since without any success. Personally, I have a strange feeling one or both of them may turn up floating face down in one of the tidal pools in a few weeks. 

Schanke … You never finished reading him his rights when he was arrested. Although the Mounties did read him here in the precinct, he maintained that it was a clear violation of his rights. According to Merrill, his scheister lawyers played that one to the hilt.

He had a dozen witnesses swearing on their mother's graves, and some of them would have had to kill their mothers first, that he was playing poker with them on the night Valentine was killed. The tapes from the wire weren't admissible in court without other corroborating evidence, and of course without Belcher, there wasn't any. 

And the knife wasn't a perfect fit for the fatal wound, either. Even though your report, Dr. Lambert, said that there was a 93 percent probability that it was, it wasn't good enough. Not with his pack of vultures in three piece suits nit-picking every sentence apart."

"What about him shooting at us?" Schanke asked.

"He claims you were trespassing and he was just defending his property."

"Even after we identified ourselves as policemen?" Nick retorted.

"He claims he never heard you say anything about that." 

"What about the dogs?" 

"There isn't any legal proof they were his. No licenses. No bills of sale or receipts. No records from any vet we can find. He claims they were strays that just happened to be on his property."

"And the drugs? How does he explain the drugs?" Don asked.

"He didn't. His lawyers pointed out that without validating testimony from Monica Belcher, the search warrant was illegal and anything found in his house because of it was inadmissible. 

In the end, the judge had no choice to dismiss the charges. 

One last thing, gentlemen. As he was leaving the courthouse, he was making noises about suing for false arrest and harassment." 

"And so he goes free while a good cop like Marcus Valentine rots in his grave." Don said angrily. "That sucks!"

"I agree." Cohen continued. "I hate it too. But then, who said life was fair." 

**********

"It's hard to believe this is the same cat in both of these photos." Don Schanke said as he placed the photos on Nick's desk. One showed Sidney right after he came home and the other was one taken recently "In the first one, he looks he's tangled with a couple of big dogs. Which is exactly what did happen. He looks perfectly all right in the second one. His fur has grown back and there isn't even any scars."

"The very same Sidney." Natalie Lambert said as she picked up the pictures and put them back in her purse. "That's why I took those pictures. So I would have a record of what happened. Except that he still hasn't regained all of his strength yet, he's 100 percent healed. Even Dr. Fletcher is amazed at his recovery." 

"I think you might like to read this." Cohen said as she laid a fax on Nick's desk. "Especially you, Doctor Lambert. It was forwarded to us by the RCMP, who got it off the CNN news website."

Nick picked up the paper and read.

"Police in Los Angeles found the body of a man tentatively identified as Charles 

Tenowski in an alley in the Watts area of the city at 11:30 last night. His throat had been cut. Although there was strong evidence that he had bled to death, since both the jugular vein and the corotid artery were cut, there was little blood at the scene. Police theorize that he had been murdered elsewhere and his body dumped where it was found. Since Tenowski was a known drug dealer in the Canadian Provinces, police are speculating that the murder was the result of a deal gone bad."

"Who says there isn't justice in the world." Schanke said with a big smile. "It's been four months since the hearing. I thought this one would have to be put in the unsolved file. That it would be one of those … you know … know who … know why … no proof ... cases. And it's ironic how he bought it. But then, those that live by the sword … " He pulled his finger across his throat. "G-r-r-e-k-h-t!"

Natalie stared at Nick. "You don't think … " She tapped her fingers lightly on her front teeth and whispered almost inaudibly. She knew he would hear her, even though no one else would.

"I can find out." He whispered back.

**********

Lucien LaCroix stood at the bar of the Raven. He twirled the dark liquid in his goblet and studied it intently. "Nicholas! Nicholas! Why do you always take it for granted that vampires are behind every suspicious crime? I suppose I should be grateful that you are not accusing me of doing in your drug dealer friend. You aren't accusing me. Are you?"

"For one thing, he is most certainly not my friend. And no … I don't think you did it, but I thought you might know something about the person who did."

LaCroix sighed heavily. "I cannot possibly know everything that every vampire does everywhere in the world. As you well know, Toronto is not the only place that has a sizeable population of vampires. Los Angeles also has a large Community. Perhaps one of them decided to have him for a midnight snack. Perhaps it was just what the police said it was. A drug deal gone awry. What difference does it make? The man is dead. Let it go at that."

"I just thought … "

"That's one of your problems, Nicholas. You think too much. As the Bard wrote of Cassius in that play of his about Julius Caesar, 'Such men are dangerous'." He picked up his drink. "Now if you will excuse me, I must get ready to go to the studio. I have a radio show to broadcast."

**********

" 'Revenge is mine.' Says the Judeo Christian God." The silky voice of the Nightcrawler floated over the Toronto radio waves. " 'The best revenge … is revenge.' Says an ancient French proverb. 'Revenge is a dish best served cold.' Says a somewhat newer proverb among certain Science Fiction factions."

"According to the law, revenge is illegal. The justice system is supposed to render even the thought of seeking vengeance a moot idea. But what happens when the courts fail to mete out justice. What happens when we or our loved ones are wronged and the perpetrator is not made to answer for his deeds." The Nightcrawler paused to let the message sink in. 

"Who, then is responsible for meeting out justice? Who shall right the wrong that has been done? Who shall seek revenge?"

"Another ancient proverb extols 'An eye for an eye'. Is it so wrong to seek repayment for unnecessary pain and suffering? Particularly for the pain and suffering deliberately inflicted. Is seeking this kind of retribution criminal? Or is it permissible? Or perhaps even laudable?" Another pause.

"Think it over, Mes Amis. Each of us must come to their own conclusion. The Nightcrawler has his ideas on the subject. Do you?" His smile could not be seen by his audience.

"Until next time, my children of the night. Remember. You belong to me. You always have. You always will. The Nightcrawler will always seek to avenge the wrongs and injustices that are committed against those that belong to him. No matter who you are. No matter what you have done."

**********

****

Los Angeles

He put the rose to his lips and then gently set it in front of the framed photo. He sighed softly and wiped the tears from his chocolate colored cheeks. "Of all my descendents, you were one that I was the proudest of." 

He poured a thick red liquid into a glass and held it up to the photo. "Rest easy, Marcus. Your murder has been avenged. Your killer will not kill again. I have seen to that." 

He took a sip of his drink. There was no doubt. This vintage was definitely from the one who had murdered Marcus Valentine as well as countless others. He smiled, letting his fangs drop and his eyes yellow. "No one messes with my family ... And lives!"

**********

****

The End?

I think not!


End file.
